


White Moon

by spokesandhill



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, could be a slowburn, old, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spokesandhill/pseuds/spokesandhill
Summary: Sastiel short fic I haven't posted anywhere yet but that I wrote in...early 2014? Old stuff but I figure I shouldn't just throw it out. I've been trying to write more on it, so updates might be a thing? I had a plan for it at some point but no promises. Might be better as a just a one chapter thing anyways, we'll see.





	

Sam scrubbed harder at the dish in his hand, barely noticing that the carefully painted china was flaking gold into the sink.

    “Sam? C’mon work with me man.” Dean’s voice cut through his thoughts, leaving Sam to stare at the nearly destroyed china in his hands

    “Uhh...Yeah.” Sam nearly threw the plate to Dean, who caught it...for a moment. It fell to the ground, the remains of the gold leafing shattering into fragments that scattered over the floor 

    “Dude! Talk about bull in a china shop!” Dean glared at him, flashing a quick smile to the shop owner. “He’s new to washing...dishes.” He said unconvincingly

    “Yeah right.” Sam muttered under his breath. The lie was so stupid it was unreal.

    “Well get that kid working, Mr. Scheider. Don’t want any slackers in my soup kitchen.” The owner glared at Sam “You better clean up this mess, boy.”

    “Yes Mr. Knudson.” He knew better than to argue with his boss, especially when that boss had control of whether or not he was undercover. Mr. Knudson walked away, leaving the foul stench of dictator in his wake

    “Seriously Sam, what’s with you?!” Dean growled “You’ve been like this for the past few days, and you’ve been screwing things up because of it. What the hell?!”

Not responding, Sam let the question hang in the air without an answer. An answer to that question would be merely to complex for Dean to grasp, much less, understand or accept. That was partly the reason for his discontent anyhow

He ignored the eyeroll this ignorance brought from his brother, and continued to wash, more carefully now, to ease Dean’s mind. Dean didn’t need to know why he was unhappy. The plate seemed to suddenly turn into a metaphor of his heart. Scrubbed of any beauty to be left exposed, ugly...and, well, broken. Shattered, more like. Kind of like glass. Porcelain.   
The bell sounded for break, and Dean shoved him.

“Get it together. We need to find out how to kill this sonuvabitch. Mr-whatever-his-name-is-boss seems to fit the description. If we don’t gank him soon, we might end up being his...Sam?” Dean waved a hand in front of Sam’s blank stare at another plate in the soapy tub.

“Hmmm….what?”

Dean sighed “If you’re gonna be so spacey, just go.  Bitch.”

“Jerk.” He replied, taking off his apron and setting it on the counter thankfully. Time away from Dean might help. More importantly, time away from Dean and Cas might help.  
Their relationship had been...rough on his side. Awkward approaches and advances done by Castiel had been disregarded immediately by him, because things just seemed normal. For the angel to be awkward was anything but weird.  
But slowly, things had grown...closer between Dean and Cas. Nothing special, just weird disappearances with Dean for apparently things “only Dean could help with”. He denied it constantly. Cas was his. Dean treated Cas like crap anyhow. Their staring was nothing but platonic, Dean had said so himself.

Of course he had felt left out. Not only because his potential love interest would leave him for so long, but Dean was with him.   
Then the whole thing about the profound bound. That one hit him hard. Night after night alone in a cramped hotel room, the questions welling up in his stomach-lead weighted and pestering in his mind. Dean and Cas could never be together. Dean was straight. So, completely straight. And he had already told Dean he was bi, to which he responded with an uncaring shrug. Dean had his chance to simply burst forth with that statement then too, but he didn’t, so he was straight. Obviously.

When Dean had finally told him, seated him down  on a rickety old bed and laced his hand with Cas’s with an innocent, uncharacteristic smile...well...Sam was happy. Happy that Dean was finally less of a jerk than usual, happy that he had found some sort of stable relationship. But betrayal still ran through his mind in hot rage. How could Dean do this, when his caring for the angel was obviously shown through the rare prolonged hugs, the time they spent alone and researching, talking about life. What sort of things could Dean have that were so desirable, when he had messed up in so many ways, wronged Cas so many times?

And so once more, Sam was left alone. Just like any other love interest he had ever had, Cas simply wasn’t his for the taking. Sam was doomed to walk alone, it seemed.

    He walked out and  to the old motel to see find Cas sitting on the bed, looking pleasantly expectant as he entered. Not that it mattered to Sam anymore, and it wasn’t that it gave him hope-there was no hope-but it gave him slight, bitter, reassurance.   
    “Dean’s not coming back for a while. He’ll finish at sometime around 6ish…” Sam trailed off, trying to be helpful, though each word stung from his throat. He wished Cas would just appear for Dean, or maybe just go away, because these random appearances were just wearing him down emotionally.

    “I know.”

    “Are you just gonna stay here for a while?” Sam asked, trying to make a seat for Cas that wasn’t his bed. Maybe so Cas would leave him alone, and he could find something else to distract himself. Searching for cases, making food, reading a book...something...

    “Sam, I was waiting for you.” Cas gave a sad smile, breaking Sam a little more inside. He paused for a moment in his seat preparation before going back to it with more purpose, searching for his laptop and setting it on the bed, making it clear that he had to work.  
      
    “Sam, stop please.”

    “Things need to get done around here…” 

    “Not right now. We need to talk.”

Sam stopped completely, sitting in the chair he’d cleared, feeling safer the further he was from Cas.  
    “Sam, why are you acting this way? You’ve been...distant. Sit with me for a moment.”

Sam stiffly picked up the chair and moved it across from Cas, wringing his hands calmly to keep himself busy. No wonder Dean had booted him out of the job thing with the undercover thing. They were probably plotting this together, working against him..

    “Sam,” Cas reached over to grab his hands, gently, but firmly “Stop.”

Sam blew out an angry breath, closing his eyes “Leave me alone, Cas.”

    “Sam, I need to know.”

    “No. You don’t.”

    “Sam, are you jealous?”

Sam’s thought stopped in its tracks, and he nearly laughed in incredulity.   
      
    “This isn’t some sort teenage drama, Cas. You two have been distant, sure. I’m fine.”

    “I think you resent this relationship. You trouble me.”

    It occurred to Sam why Cas had done that hand-touching thing, and he pulled away, betrayed. ‘Troubled’ Yeah, troubled  indeed. He got up, speechless and feeling the need to get away. To  run, and never return, and go somewhere he could just not exist. Dying sounded like a pleasant option right about now. Leaving Dean and Cas together would be leaving no one unhappy

    “Sam, I’m trying to fix things. Just...talk to me.”

“Cas, just...stop okay?” Sam said waveringly, his voice unchanging, but his shoulders shrinking away from Cas’ gaze.  
    “Sam…” Cas reached out to grab Sam’s shoulder steadily, to hold him there. Sam tensed under the touch, his heart racing with hope and fury  
No. No, there was no hope. He couldn’t have what he wanted, and he had to get over it right now. None of this was his to take, all of this was so wrong.  
    “What...” Sam said, at a loss for words. What could he say? He didn’t want hurt himself more than necessary. But what was more to hurt?  
    He grabbed Cas’s face before he had time to think of what he was doing, giving him a brief kiss, opening his eyes in shock at what he was doing. What was he thinking? The choice was ridiculous, uncontrolled. As dumb and romantic as he’d sworn only moments ago wasn’t true

    “Sam…” Cas’s eyes were still closed, and he flicked them opening suddenly, the iciness of the blue startlingly vivid. “...I didn’t realize…”

    Sam shook his head silently, disgusted with himself. He picked up his things, throwing them into his bag uncaringly. He needed to go, before Dean came. There was no going back now, this was the point of no return, and he had passed it.


End file.
